Labatt Blue
by Krysnel Nicavis
Summary: Marcus and Oliver are forced to sit together in Potions. Dizasterous? Slash Alert MFxOW
1. Wood

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Oliver Wood, Marcus Flint, or any other thing/person/aspect associated with HP™. JK Rowling is the person who has that happy power. In reading this fiction you have agreed not to put the author in a position of prosecution (of any kind) by any parties who may find themselves in a disagreement with the morals/situations/actions that are stated in this ficiton. This fic is done purely for entertainment purposes only, and is not ment to be taken seriously.

Proof that anything can happen, out of the blue...

**Part 1 -- Wood**

The fire was blazing in the fireplace of the Gryffindor common room. It was well past night fall on a Friday, but Oliver Wood sat staring into the flames, wonder about the things that his mind would threaten to focus on if he wasn't careful.

It wasn't often that a thing like this came up. His mind was usually on Quidditch when there was nothing else to think or worry about. But lately, something had been bothering him. It was something that had taken him quite by surprise. It even scared him.

It was now his last year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and it was almost a complete accident that he's come to the realisation that now had him sitting before the fire in the dead of night.

He was sitting in Potions class that afternoon. All of the Potions classes he'd ever had was with the Slytherins. The dungeons were always dark and drafty, as always. Professor Sanpe seemed to be more irritated than usual the day before and given a new seating plan. They all got new partners, and Oliver realised that each pair consisted of one Gryffindor and one Slytherin. Oliver's partner turned out to be none other than Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, and one of Oliver's arch rivals.

But the arrangements had not bothered him as much as he thought they should have. Or rather, they bothered him in a different way that should have been allowed. All through the class he felt the warmth coming from the person standing by him. He caught himself slowly inching closer to it. Why on Earth he would ever want to get closer to Marcus Flint, he couldn't figure out.

A little while later in the class, Oliver was reaching for an ingredient that he was going to put into his cauldron, his and Marcus's hands brushed each other, and Oliver felt a shiver up his arm. The shiver, he realised was not as a result of his dislike for Flint, but quite the opposite. After that brief contact with Marcus's skin, he felt something inside of him ache to feel more.

_More of what?_ He'd thought.

As the end of class came closer, he felt a small weight being placed in his chest. The end of class meant that his next class, Divination, wasn't with the Slytherins. The end of class meant that he wouldn't be this close to Marcus again until Monday.

When the bell rang, he reluctantly packed all his things away, taking longer that usual. Not that he minded that he was the last one out the door. He noticed beside him that Marcus, who'd left as quickly as possible, had forgotten one of his books. Picking it up, Oliver noticed at once that it was a Quidditch book. It was of the Irish National Quidditch Team.

_Must be his favourite team._ Oliver suspected.

He closed the book, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He was planning on finding Marcus and giving the book back. This would give him an excuse to be near him again. But at the time, he was still unsure of exactly why he wanted to.

The fire was slowly fading as the night went on. Oliver picked up the book that lay on the floor beside him. He picked it up and flipped through it. The pictures of the players flying by and waving. He _had_ planned on looking for Flint, but changed his mind as he went down to the Great Hall for supper.

As he flipped through, a piece of folded paper fell out from the pages. He picked it up and debated on reading it. It could be private, after all. After a few minutes, he placed it back into the book at a random page and put the book down again. Five minutes hadn't passed when he'd picked up the book again and flipped back to where he'd put the note.

- 30 -

End Part One


	2. Flint

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Oliver Wood, Marcus Flint, or any other thing/person/aspect associated with HP™. JK Rowling is the person who has that happy power. In reading this fiction you have agreed not to put the author in a position of prosecution (of any kind) by any parties who may find themselves in a disagreement with the morals/situations/actions that are stated in this ficiton. This fic is done purely for entertainment purposes only, and is not ment to be taken seriously.

Proof that anything can happen, out of the blue...

**Part 2 -- Flint**

He lay on his bed in the Slytherin dorm room, still in his school robes, thinking. Yes, thinking. Something that everybody assumed that he couldn't do. Even his friends didn't think to highly of him. But he didn't care.

He thought about what had happened earlier that day. He'd been sitting in Potions class. Snape had given them new seating plans, and _he_ had to partner with Oliver Wood, of all people. Why on Earth he'd been placed with _him_ was beyond him. Although, now that he reflected back on the whole ordeal, he realised that each Slytherin had been paired with a Gryffindor.

But one thing was certain, he had not planned on the effect that this little arrangement had on him. He really didn't mind his new bench partner. He sort of liked the closeness. But there was something nagging him at the back of his head. He wasn't completely sure of what it was trying to tell him, but he was in the middle of Potions class, and he needed to concentrate on what he was doing.

He'd manage to control his mind from swaying to thoughts of the one standing beside him. At least until their hands brushed slightly. The feeling sending an electric shock up his arm. He was totally confused as to why in Hell that should happen.

_'Was probably just startled.'_ He'd told himself at the time. After all, it _was_ Oliver Wood.

But as the end of class came nearer, he felt himself wishing it would never end. Oliver wasn't in his next class. Before he could give it a second thought, he'd pulled out a piece of parchment and scribbled a few words on it and folded it just as the bell rang. He placed it in his Quidditch book and set it down on his chair before he hastily packed all his things away. He was almost always late for Transfiguration, and he really didn't feel like getting a lecture from Professor McGonagall today.

When all his things were in his bag, he quickly slung it over his shoulder and, seeing that Wood wasn't in that much of a hurry, purposely left his book on his chair. He rushed out the door and headed back to his dorm room to get his Transfiguration books.

He had no doubt that Wood would see his book and pick it up. But whether he'd read the note, Marcus could only hope.

It was after midnight when Marcus got up from his bed an pulled on his cloak. He silently exited his dorm room and made his way into the corridor. He came across no one on his way.

When he got to a small door that he'd found a few weeks ago, he slowly inched it opened, not making a sound. He slipped through it, slowly closing it behind him. Now standing outside, he made his way quickly to the change rooms of the Quidditch pitch. Praying that one of the Dementors didn't notice him.

- 30 -

End Part Two


	3. Flame

**Disclaimer:** same as part one.

Proof that anything can happen, out of the blue...

**Part 3 -- Flame**

After reading the note, Oliver placed it back into the book and headed quickly to his dorm room that he shared with Percy Weasley. He placed the book onto his bed, and quietly put on his cloak. Grabbing his broomstick, he opened the window. After making sure that Percy was still sound asleep, he kicked off from the floor and flew out the window, heading in the direction of the Quidditch pitch.

-.-.-.-.-

Marcus removed his cloak and set it on one of the benches inside the changing room. He paced the floor for a while.

_What if he doesn't find the note?_ He wondered. He sat on the bench opposite his cloak. _Or worse, what if he does find it and thinks it's nothing but a trick?_ He resumed his pacing.

Twenty minutes later, Marcus stood up and was now picking up his cloak. He was ready to put it on when he heard something outside the door. He quickly went into the shower area, well hidden from view. He'd just ducked around the corner when the door opened. He heard footsteps as the person entered.

The footsteps came closer to where he stood, but stopped before they reached him. Fighting to keep himself under control, he slowly peeked around the corner.

-.-.-.-.-

Wood was looking around the empty locker room. There was a sinking feeling inside of him, thought he was still slightly unwilling to give into it. He sighed and bowed his head.

Taking one step forward, he started to head out of the deserted changing room, when a pair of arms grabbed a firm hold on his waist.

"Don't go." Said a small voice in his ear. He felt the heat from the person's breath on his neck, and it sent erotic shivers up his spine. He leaned into the body behind him.

"I'm not." He replied, swallowing, fighting to keep control of himself. His heart began to race. The arms forced him to turn around.

-.-.-.-.-

Marcus was now looking him in the eyes. His bright brown eyes. They were not looking to him with the usual hate and disgust. Not now. Now, they looked to him with an emotion that he'd never seen in a person's eyes before.

"Why did you ask me to come here?" Oliver asked him in a soft voice. Placing his hands on Marcus's shoulders.

"Why did you come?" Marcus replied in the same tone. Oliver slid his hands upward, linking his fingers behind Marcus's neck.

"I asked you first." Marcus pulled Oliver closer to himself, one of his arms sliding up Oliver's back.

"I asked you second." The looked into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Oliver rested his forehead against Marcus's, and closed his eyes.

After another silence, Marcus slid his face along Oliver's so that his cheek was against Oliver's, and he was talking into his ear.

"I." Marcus began. "Want to be with you." Oliver felt himself quiver. Just the sound of Marcus's voice was driving him closer to the edge.

"Why me?" He questioned, wrapping his arms around Marcus's neck.

"Because…" Marcus stared, afraid of what he wanted to say might do.

"Because… ?" Oliver encouraged, as he pulled away just enough to face Marcus, and look into his eyes.

"Because, I- well…" A slight tinge of pink began sinking into his face. Oliver put a hand to his lips, quieting the Slytherin. Seeing the understanding glean in the younger boy's eyes, he inched closer to Oliver. Oliver moved in the rest of the way, closing the only gap left between them.

Marcus ran his fingers through Oliver's short hair, moaning slightly. Oliver replied with a moan of his own. Marcus backed Oliver into the nearest wall. They began to remove each other's clothing, kissing the skin as it was revealed. When they'd both stripped down to nothing, they stood kissing for a small while.

"We don't have to-" Marcus began. But Oliver silenced him with another kiss. Taking Marcus by the hand, he lead the paler boy into the showers, and turned on a warm spray of water. He stood under the warm cascade and looked into Marcus's eyes once more.

"I want to." They both grinned and Marcus joined him under the spray. And that night, they brought light into a world that was growing ever darker, and happiness into the bleak sorrow caused by the Dementors presence.

That night, they gave themselves to the feelings in their hearts that had seemed to have appeared, out of the blue.

- 30 -

End Part Three

THE END


End file.
